WISTING'S ICE-CABIN 319 



nailed down with a little tack, such as one would use 

 to fasten labels. " That would be a nice thing to take 

 to the Pole! ' This final observation of Hanssen's was 

 doubtless the mildest expression of what he thought of 

 the work. I saw how the new lashings were being put 

 on, and I was quite ready to agree with Hanssen that 

 they would do the work. It was, by the way, no easy 

 job, this lashing at - 15 F., as the thermometer showed, 

 but Hanssen did not seem to mind it. 



I had heard that Wisting also took part in this work, 

 but he was not to be seen. Where could he be? My 

 eyes involuntarily sought the curtain, behind which the 

 humming sound was audible. I was now ready to 

 burst with curiosity. At last the lashing question 

 appears to be thrashed out, and my companion shows 

 signs of moving on. He leaves his lantern and goes up 

 to the curtain. ' Wisting!" Yes !" The answer seems 

 to come from a far distance. The humming ceases, and 

 the curtain is thrust aside. Then I am confronted by 

 the sight that has impressed me most of all on this 

 eventful day. There sits Wisting, in the middle of the 

 Barrier, working a sewing-machine. The temperature 

 outside is now - 60 F. This seems to me to require 

 some explanation; I slink through the opening to get a 

 closer view. Then ugh! I am met by a regular 

 tropical blast. I glance at the thermometer; it shows 

 + 50 F. But how can this be? Here he is, sewing in 

 an ice-cellar at + 50. I was told in my school-days 



